


Whipped

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Holiday, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:12:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A funny little Thanksgiving ficlet wherein Jim finds out sometimes its good to be 'whipped'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whipped

## Whipped

by Ami

Jim -- Not Mine. Blair -- Not Mine. Whipped Cream -- Mine.

I wrote this today after Thanksgiving dinner. I was helping my stepmother accomplish the same activity that Blair is engaged in -- fortunately (or unfortunately, as the case may be) our mixture didn't have any sugar in it, and only took twenty minutes.

Simon Erif took a break from his own Thanksgiving festivites to beta this, and I'm very grateful that he didn't mind 'working' *G* on a holiday. This is the SLASH version of the fic, the GEN version is at CL and the WWOMB.   


* * *

Pouring the thick white cream into a blue plastic bowl, Blair measured out a quarter of a cup of sugar and poured it in as well. He threw away the empty carton and stirred the sugar into the cream, putting the used spoon in the sink when he was done. Grabbing the bowl and the hand-beater, he sat down at the kitchen table and started whisking the cream, turning the handle of the hand-beater over and over and over again. 

Ten minutes later, Jim finally looked up from the TV (he was watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade) and asked, "Sandburg, how long is that going to take? And what are you making, anyway?" 

Pausing in his whisking, he laid the hand-beater down and flexed his fingers, trying to work the cramps out of his hand. "About another thirty to thirty-five minutes. And I'm making whipped topping for the pumpkin pie. There are _so_ many preservatives in Reddy Whip, it's not even funny. We can't risk using it with your senses, so I'm making some from scratch," Blair told him. 

"Ah, but Chief, I _love_ Reddy Whip!" Jim complained. Despite his senses having been 'online' (Sandburg's words, not his) for over a year, he still wasn't used to not being able to eat all his old favorite foods. 

Blair shook his head at his lover. "Neither heavy cream nor sugar affects your senses adversely, so you'll be able to have this -- and you should thank me, because _this_ whipped cream is _way_ rich. More calories in one tablespoon than in a glazed donut." 

Jim blinked. "And it tastes good?" he asked, just to make sure. Anything made by a guy who liked algae shakes was suspect until the first taste. 

Blair huffed. "Jim, the only ingredients _are_ heavy cream and sugar. Twenty percent more sugar than the recipe calls for, by the way. I added it just for you, as a special treat. What do you _think_ it's going to taste like?" He arched an eyebrow. 

Grinning, Jim said, "Yummy! And a happy Thanksgiving to me." 

* * *

End Whipped by Ami: SciFiCatGirl18@aol.com

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